Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hi!

The hiss of disapproval As they sit on benches Surrounded by habitual pomp Goaded by others in favour this week.

Those at the back (Like anywhere) troublemakers Playing the thief Of credulity: well.

A clever hurdle here, A concession in the bag; Spin that numeric truth thin Like some talented Shaman…

I watched the Prime Minister’s question time (PMQs) today, and I wanted to write about how many MPs stood up and pressed Theresa May about the arrangements for the Grenfell Tower rehousing and investigation.

I wanted to explore how surreal it always is to hear any one of them remark on events that affect ‘ordinary’ people, while the MPs are simultaneously being cocooned by grandeur and tradition within Westminster.

There was a lot of reference to class division having been brought to our attention in the harshest way by the towerblock’s blaze, and how this year and this century should mean that none of it should exist any more.

I listened to the accents, and I noted what my first impressions were. I closed my eyes and took them in, tried not to have my storyteller’s mind fill in parts of the speakers’ biographies straight away – but it was impossible to escape.

We categorise from a very early age. We are taught to. The more life experience we have, the more we learn to read the ‘signs’ when we first meet people. It becomes something we do naturally, it gives us a framework, lets us determine if we are ‘safe’, or how much we will be understood by the other person. We get impressions and feedback from others in a myriad of different ways, and often subconsciously; then change our behaviour accordingly.

This becomes a problem when we take our categorisation further and decide that others deserve less. That their lives are expendable, that steps should be missed out when assuring safety. Although it seems incongruous (and, dare I say, patronising?!) to hear a plummy accent declare that ‘the poor’ and ‘disadvantaged’ in our societies should be treated more humanely, it is indeed even more chilling that the fact does still need to be pointed out!

My generated words only led to a poem about the general workings of the Commons Chamber, but there is a lot more in my head I wish to express!

Later, I watched footage of cladding being taken down from other towerblocks, and the whole thing is beyond scandalous. How can anyone, anywhere justify knowingly endangering lives by using materials, that are proven to be a fire risk, on people’s homes?! I really hope that the investigation is widened to include any company or body that is responsible for knowingly choosing money over lives. I just can’t get my head around the enormity of such a deed, and the price the Grenfell residents have had to pay for that decision.

I fervently hope there are appropriate criminal charges brought to bear after the police investigations.

Hi.

Thereports keep coming. I don’t know how London’s emergency services are supposed to cope, never mind the communities who live there. I find myself watching the rolling coverage on the BBC a lot more than is healthy, but it is almost like if I take in every detail I will somehow see that there is a meaning to all the recent tragedies. That I will be able to glimpse some equilibrium and feel comforted?

But at the same time I don’t wish to be merely consoled, I want to look the chaos in the face and show the grit that those communities do, become mightier by seeing how other people manage it; learn the ultimate resilience.

My heart, once more, is with the afflicted families. I am so proud of the humanity that is being shown across faiths and class divides, for this is how we all should be. It proves there is, after all, hope and kindness still circulating in this world.

It has been a week of extreme scrutiny for London and its people. It is lovely to see the community coming together to help one another, and keep strong. As more and more details emerge of last Saturday night, I worry for those living there in the weeks and months to come. I hope we manage to thwart any new plots against us, and give the UK a bit of breathing space while we sort ourselves out.

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hello!

I once more came to my pen and notebook, hoping to write something about the election.

I have been watching the coverage on the BBC off and on all day. I unfortunately had to go to bed early, and not watch the election last night, due to somehow managing to pull a muscle in my left side while lowering myself to lie on the couch (?!) so I’ve been hugging my hot water bottle a lot and moving gingerly!

Again, the generator listened to my subconscious, and gave me fitting words:

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hello.

Hubby had mentioned that there seemed to be some incident unfolding in Manchester last night as I was doing bloggy stuff on the PC, and he’d put the news on downstairs for a few minutes. I grimaced and said that I hoped it was not too serious, but I did not look anything up at that point.

Hubby was working from home today, as he often does on a Tuesday, and we went about our usual school morning business: hugged and cajoled the kids as we always do, made sure that they got into the nursery and classroom on time.

We didn’t really talk to anybody, as hubby had a 9.30am audio meeting he had to get back for. I did send a few private messages to some mums on Facebook, but were just talking about what we were up to this morning, and I didn’t really look at my feed.

I turned on my laptop, to start work on some of the post about Rab, and that is when I realised that Hubby had seen the first reports of the terror attack at the Manchester Arena. It was all over MSN.

I tried to avoid reading into anything too deeply at that time, but the changing headlines were updating me as I worked.

I walked down to get Youngest (one of my lovely mum friends picking me up on the way) and watched him frolicking about with a nursery pal, and I chatted to the boy’s father. Hubby came to get us and ran around with the kids a little more, before we went back home for lunch.

Only then did I watch the news properly. My heart just breaks for the loved ones left behind! It was, and is, just too horrific to fully take in. What hit me the hardest was the fact that so many families are still searching for their loved ones after the attack, and that young people were targeted so ruthlessly. I would never wish that on anyone, no matter how angry I was at the world, or how suicidal.

It was achingly bittersweet to hear of all the help that was offered in the aftermath, however. It is always important to focus on how good people are at rising to challenges – how no matter what the community can be useful and comforting in little ways. It always makes me realise that everything is not lost, and that I could and would act the same in dire circumstances. The majority of humans, thankfully, have a capacity for good that far outweighs their darker elements.

I had a nice snuggly nap with Youngest on the couch, and hugged Eldest extra tight when he came home with Hubby. I wish I could let them all know unequivocally the depth of my love for them, to safeguard against that day when I may not be able to tell them again, that day that we all dread when we love people that much…

When I saw ‘shame’ and ‘secret’ come up, it sparked a poem about last night. I always wonder about people who commit such carnage, about how they justify it to themselves and keep going with their plan. There is lots in the media about not being angry, or letting it stop us doing things we love. I’d want answers if I was a bereft parent, and yet never be able to question the killer. I would find that part the hardest to get past.

Screw Relieved Veil Afternoon Shame Feigned Secret Nest Intend

It takes more than just a loose screw

To pack a bag full of destruction,

And walk among them there.

To feel relieved that no one guessed,

That your veil of deceit

Lay undetected.

To not have second thoughts

Weeks before. Or ‘chicken out’

That afternoon.

To not be plagued by shame

That such thoughts even

Entered your head.

What hatred of humanity

To have feigned decency…

Lived shoulder to shoulder…

While, in a secret nest somewhere,

All was black and wicked.

You: smiling upon your work,

As their fate you fashioned?

No mercy did you ever intend.

Youngest went in the bath first, and came through all soggy-haired and pink to tell me about the many new toys in the nursery that he’d suddenly remembered about. They’ve been raising funds recently.

“Dere a new goo-illa (gorilla) game…da old one needed sellotape cos it was bwoken…if not healfy, or dust a tweat, goes to gweedy goo-illa, if is healfy it goes on your bo-waard.” Apparently, Youngest and his pal were having great fun feeding the gorilla things they wouldn’t like: “we sayin’ ‘I don’t want dis, I don’t want dat!!’” The memory of it, and accompanying gestures, made him chuckle, which set me off!

There was also a ‘Ma-bul Wun’ (Marble Run) where one “put da ma-bul at da top and it slides down and it twists because dere’s a spinny fing at da bottom”; and ‘Noo Wooden Twain Twacks’ – “oo know what twain twacks do!”

New “taw-a-ches” (torches) for the woodwalk also featured; “but I don’t fink day will open dem tomorrow” (he is going on the woodwalk with hubby tomorrow).

I read the boys another chapter of the 10th Famous Five book, and cuddled them both until they were nearly asleep, trying not to cry all over them. They are so beautiful, and I really hope they get to have the long and happy lives all parents wish for their children.

I am just so sorry we live in a world where a minority feel they have the right to take, in the most vile ways possible, a family’s right to grow and love and be together. Manchester, I stand and cry with you.

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

There was only one topic that popped into my mind when I read ‘oval’ and ‘press’ in the generated words tonight. As I watch rolling news reports on the BBC News 24 channel, I come back to these ponderings quite a bit. Who knew I’d be caring about politics so much in my late thirties?! There does seem to be a lot of it about these days…

Heal Public Settle Oval Abrasive Base Chop Talented Press

It must be hard to heal

From such a public loss,

And settle back into life

As if nothing had happened.

Watch some crass buffoon

Squat in the Oval Office;

(Being deliberately abrasive,

But getting away with it)

Some days, you must get up

And wonder if it was all

Some figment. If it mattered.

Whether being that base would have been easier!

Do you feel like a limb

Was left behind,

And that you know exactly

Who made the chop?

You were always so talented

At coming across as decent and measured.

You genuinely cared.

Never picked fights with the press.

Is God still blessing you guys?

Has your head been out of your hands, lately?

Notebook scribbles, in a fetching shade of blue.

Incredibly, I read this to hubby and typed it out, then hopped on to Google to see what Obama has been up to, and realised that today he has given his first public appearancesince Trump took over! How weird is that?! (I had not seen that on the news today)

Remember, the generators are random, I ask for nine words and alternate between four generators throughout the week…what are the odds that ‘oval’, ‘abrasive’ and ‘press’ would pop up on this generator today? Are the algorithms rigged? Hmmmm…

The article suggests that Obama will not be answering my queries anytime soon, but it says a memoir has been started 😉 should be interesting…